


Tie the Knots

by merae2888



Series: Adulting [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merae2888/pseuds/merae2888
Summary: “You want me to tie you up, Princess?”Bellamy says it flippantly, a way to joke it off if she wants but the way his hands are tightening the knot, manipulating the rope…she imagines him looping it around her wrists, securing her to their bed and being at his mercy and well….“Would you be into that?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, the title of this ficlet is so so bad, I'm sorry. *hangs head in shame*
> 
> Secondly, this is my first attempt ever at doing something BDSM related and though I feel like this is very light, I want to make sure anyone that reads this knows what they are going into. Please read the tags.

The med bay is finally empty and Clarke cleans up quick, bids goodnight to her mother and Jackson and makes her way across camp, idly acknowledging the people that call out to her to join them, her eyes fixed on the little cabin with the glowing windows and smoke rising from the chimney. 

This is the best part of her day, going home to Bellamy. 

Inside, he’s standing over the pot that hangs above the fire, stirring something that smells so good her stomach audibly rumbles when she breathes in deep. 

“Hey,” Bellamy says over her shoulder as she comes up behind him. She props her chin on his shoulder and wraps her arms around his middle, humming happily when he kisses her temple. “I killed a bear and made it into stew for you. Love me?”

“Always.” She kisses his neck. “You take care of me.”

“Someone has to,” he says. He turns in her arms to hug her tight, pulls his fingers gently through her tangled hair and down her back then up again, scratching at her neck with his blunt nails like she likes. “Good day?”

“Better now.” 

He kisses her forehead before pulling back and filling a bowl with the stew for her. “Eat, I know you skipped lunch.” She takes the bowl and goes to the table, the one he made for them (seriously she’s so lucky he loves her) and has to shove a few pieces of rope aside to make room to sit down and eat. 

“What’s all this?”

Bellamy brings his own bowl and a loaf of bread and sits beside her.

(He makes bread, too. Seriously, she’s the luckiest.)

“Fishing nets. Ours aren’t very strong. I’m trying out some new knots that are supposed to be sturdier.”

“How’s it going?”

He picks up one length of rope and does something a lot more complicated with it than the way she ties her boots and pulls both ends tight, snapping the knot into place. “Getting the hang of it.” He does it again, making sure to space it far enough away before taking up another piece and tying them together with the same fancy looping motion. “Roan showed me which means they’ll probably work well on anyone that we need to tie up, too,” he says with a hint of wry humor. 

Clarke forgets to laugh. She’s watching the way his hands are working the rope, like he does with everything else, confidence and strength and her gut clenches hot and tight. Bellamy glances up and sees the way she’s watching him with longing in her eyes. 

Beneath the table, he hooks his foot around her chair leg and drags her closer to him, so he can cup the back of her neck and whisper in her ear. 

“You want me to tie you up, Princess?” 

He says it flippantly, a way to joke it off if she wants but the way his hands are tightening the knot, manipulating the rope…she imagines him looping it around her wrists, securing her to their bed and being at his mercy and well….

“Would you be into that?”

Bellamy pulls back, the teasing smile collapsing on his face. “And you fucking with me?”

Clarke loops a piece of rope over her wrist and holds it out to him. “Actually, I was hoping you’d fuck with me.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” 

“What?” she asks, poking him in the ribs as she watches his cheeks turn pink. “I just think it might be fun.” 

“You think me tying you up,” he says, kind of choking on the words because it’s just a lot, ”would be fun?”

Clarke bites her lip and after a long moment, she nods. “What do you think?” 

His eyes are always dark and hot yet something even deeper consumes them now as he swallows. “Yeah,” he says through a cough. “I think I could get into that.”

***  
It’s a few days later when they’re ready to try it: Clarke’s picked a safe word (‘Dropship, huh?” Bellamy said with a smile. Clarke shrugged. ‘Our first home.’) and Bellamy’s made rope ties that are soft enough to not hurt her skin when she tugs against them and they’ve spent hours talking about it, what they’re okay with, what they’re not.

Clarke probably drinks too much wine while they eat dinner but she’s all nervous anticipation, practically shoving Bellamy into the bedroom once their dishes are clean. 

“Excited?” he asks with a chuckle.

He’s already tied the ropes around the bedposts and made little loops where her hands and feet will slide through. Just the sight of it makes her insides burn. Clarke turns to kiss him, a little rougher than she usually does and he guides her back to the bed, hands hungry on her hips. 

Bellamy breaks their kiss, runs his thumb over her red, swollen lip. “Pretty girl,” he says, making Clarke shiver at the low rasp of his voice. Then he pushes her back on the bed and climbs over her. She arches up, offering the line of her throat to him. Usually, that’s all she needs to do to get him going but not tonight. He tugs at her shirt. “Get naked.”

Clarke sits up and strips out of her shirt. Bellamy moves off her and just watches as she shimmies out of her pants and underwear, his eyes raking over her, hot and promising. She removes her bra and goes to play with her nipples but Bellamy clears his throat. Her eyes snap to his and she goes still under his commanding gaze. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” A thrilling feeling steals over her as she obeys him and drops her hand. “Good girl.” 

He smiles a little and it reminds her of the old days, when she wanted to fuck him just as much as she wanted to scream at him, when that cocky smirk drew girls to his bed easier than moths to a flame. 

He crawls over her again, forcing her back with gentle but firm hands on her shoulders until she’s spread out beneath him. He runs his hands down her arms and grasps her wrists to draw them up over her head. She sucks in a breath when she feels the rope tighten around her wrists. Bellamy secures the knot then leans over and kisses her fingers.

“Good?” 

“Yea.” She tugs at her restraints, another blast of anticipation shooting through her. “You’ve been practicing,” she breathes, lying back and letting go. It’s freeing, lying there and just waiting for him, letting him take control. 

Bellamy’s eyes flash and she can tell he’s loving this; it gets her more excited, seeing him enjoying himself as much as she is. He moves down and grips her ankle, kisses the side of her foot before securing the tie and does the same to her other leg. Clarke’s never been so exposed, never been laid so bare before someone but it’s Bellamy and he’s looking at her with such fond, perfect love. He breathes deep when he’s finished, and lays a warm hand on her stomach. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Clarke shudders and reaches for him, wanting his kiss, straining against her binds. Bellamy laughs, not cruelly, and leans over to kiss her sweetly, too short, too chaste. She groans when he pulls back again. 

Bellamy stands and quickly removes his clothes but leaves on his boxers. He plucks a rose from the vase on their bedside table and he lies down next her, not touching her but close enough she can feel the way his body radiates heat. 

The flower petals are cool and soft against her face. Her eyes close as Bellamy moves the full blooms over her skin, across her mouth. When he reaches her collarbone, her body shudders from the barely there touch. The rose drags down between her breasts and Clarke arches off the bed, desperate for any kind of pressure. “Bellamy,” she says, whining high in her throat. 

Warm breath washes over her as he kisses her ear and she tries to lean into his mouth. “Want something, baby?” he asks, voice half teasing, half wrecked. 

“Bellamy, touch me. Please touch me.”

“Soon, my love. You’re doing so good for me.”

Clarke whimpers and apparently she has a thing for being praised. Good to know. “I’ll be good,” she says, breathless as he drags the rose petals over the swells of her breasts, tapping the satin bud against her nipples. 

He nuzzles the side of her breast, licking languidly at her pliant flesh as me moves the rose lower. It’s tickles her stomach as he drags it back and forth over her skin and then he guides it between her legs, where she’s already embarrassingly wet. He closes his mouth over her nipple, sucking harshly and the sudden shock of it is overwhelming. 

He works until her nipple is pebbled then moves to the other, the hot suction of his mouth exactly what she’d been craving. She pushes herself into his mouth and he bites at her.

She hopes he leaves marks, she wants to remember this forever. 

She’s so worked up, bucking her hips into the air, desperate to get something firmer than a rose between them, anything to grind down on and relieve the tension. 

Bellamy’s hand lands hard on her hip and forces her to lie still. 

“Not yet princess,” he says, devilish as he lifts off her with a wet, noisy pop. He brings the rose to his nose and sniffs at the smell of her cunt clinging to the petals. Clarke groans. “Fuck, Bellamy, please…just-”

He straddles her thighs but he’s still not where she needs him and she squirms beneath his weight. “You’ve got your word, Clarke. Say it and we’ll stop. Otherwise, be good for me.” 

The effort to lie still has her trembling. Clarke shudders when he plucks a few petals off the rose and scatters them over her chest and stomach, the soft little petals landing like sweet rain on her overheated skin. Bellamy runs his hands up her body, over her ribs and breasts, just light enough to drive Clarke mad, ignoring her pleading moans as he plays with the rose petals. The sensation of his rough hands and the soft flower petals are driving her mad and she lifts her hips under him, desperate for some pressure on her aching cunt. 

Finally, Bellamy slots his thick thigh between her legs and she sighs gratefully as she grinds herself on him, spreading her wetness all over his leg. He lifts her shoulders, to relieve the pressure in her arms for a second. “Such a good girl,” he mutters into her neck, then licks the sweat from her skin. Clarke groans and tries to shift herself down so she can really get herself going on his thigh but he’s got a good hold on her and she can’t fully get there. Bellamy looks down between them to where Clarke is fucking herself on his leg. He flexes his muscle and she can feel it between her thighs. “Getting close, aren’t you, princess?”

She nods and twists her head for a kiss. Bellamy catches her chin and thumbs her mouth open, licks dirty and wet over her lips and then fucks his tongue into her mouth, good and slow and maddening. Clarke whimpers and he lets her suck on his tongue for a moment before he pulls his mouth and his leg away from her. The building pleasure coiled in her stomach unspools instantly and Clarke cries out.

Bellamy slaps the side of her thigh, not too hard, but enough that she bites her lip to quiet down. His eyes flash with something dark and gorgeous when she looks into them. “You’ll come when I want you to,” he says and fuck that does something to her. He rubs a soothing hand over her skin that’s pink and warm from his slap. “Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispers, struggling to get this one simple word out, transfixed by this man she loves. Bellamy smirks and palms her tits for a moment, rubbing his thumbs over her tight nipples like a reward. 

“Pretty girl.” He pets down her trembling body, teases his knuckles over her soaking cunt for a second before standing. His eyes drink her in as she preens for him, arching her back as much as she can, rose petals falling off her in a soft caress, as he palms his hard cock through his boxer shorts. She opens her mouth, an invitation, and Bellamy throws his head back with a laugh. “Goddammit, Clarke. I’m supposed to be driving you crazy.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, you are.” 

Slowly, with an infuriating smile, he pulls his cock free and lets his shorts fall down his legs. He steps out of them as he pumps himself a few times and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, gathering some of his pre-cum that’s leaked out. Clarke hums when he feeds it to her, sucking eagerly at the taste of him. 

She feels hungry and dirty and wild for him. She wants his cock, wants to suck it and get fucked with it. Her cunt is throbbing, begging for attention and she thrashes up and off the bed in a desperate stutter and Bellamy takes mercy on her for a moment, giving her his palm to rub herself against. He presses his thumb to her clit, not moving, just a firm pressure that has her squirming and then he kneels on the side of the bed and rubs the tip of his cock over her open mouth. 

Clarke goes a little mad then, trying to get his fingers where she needs them and trying to get his dick in her mouth at the same time but Bellamy holds himself away from her seeking lips and stubbornly keeps just one finger on her clit, apparently delighted with himself if his smile is anything to go by. He rubs his fingers over her wet, swollen pussy as he feeds her another inch of his dick and Clarke sucks desperately at him even as she tries to get his fingers inside of her. 

“Fuck, baby, you love my cock don’t you?” She hums, fluttering her tongue over his cockhead. “Fuck yea, you do,” Bellamy says, voice totally wrecked as he pushes himself deeper into her mouth and he circles his thumb slowly on her clit. 

The angle sucks and Clarke can’t swallow him down her throat the way she likes to so she flattens her tongue and Bellamy fucks her mouth in slow draws, nudging the back of her throat until sweet, stinging tears fall down her cheeks.

“Look at you, letting me fuck your pretty mouth.” He tucks his free hand under her head, tugging at her hair to tilt her head back. His cock drags against the inside of her cheek, making them both groan. He falls from her mouth with a soft, wet pop and then Bellamy’s on top of her again, grinding his hard length into the crease of her hips. “You wanna get fucked, baby?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice low and rough from sucking his cock. “Yes, please, Bell.”

“Yea, baby, yeah,” he pants against her neck, “You’ve been such a good girl.” The head of his cock rubs her slick folds and then it’s gone and Bellamy is kissing his way down her chest and stomach. He bites at her hipbones, runs his tongue along her inner thighs. 

“Gotta make sure you’re ready.” He dips his head and licks a long stripe from her cunt to her clit. Clarke pulls against her ties when he sucks at her clit, looking down at his head between her legs. He flattens his tongue against her and shakes his head, vibrating her swollen flesh until she’s chanting his name desperately and then he fucks his tongue into her and she’s almost there, on the edge of ecstasy when Bellamy pulls away again. 

“Oh, fuck you!” she cries and then Bellamy’s sliding into her, laughing, his long, thick cock stretching her perfectly. He props her mouth open, dripping her cum from his tongue to hers. He pushes his hand against the flat of her back, pulling her ankles against the ties almost painfully, curling her body so his cock hits this place inside her with each of his deep thrusts that has her seeing white stars. 

Bellamy drops his forehead to her chest so he can watch the way he’s disappearing inside her cunt, losing his rhythm a little as he inhales sharply, and then he says, barely audible over the sloppy wet sounds of their bodies colliding, “Come now Clarke. I wanna watch you come on my cock.”

Clarke falls apart in his arms, trembling as her orgasm rolls through her, lighting up at every nerve ending, plunging her into sweet, aching bliss. She tips her head back, lost to the pleasure, to Bellamy’s cock swelling inside of her, to the way he says her name when he comes inside her. 

He thrusts into her shallowly a few more times as he rides out his own release, breathing harsh. When he stills, Clarke is limp in his arms and he lays her back on the bed, adjusting her head between her arms still tied above her. He immediately undoes her wrist bindings, kissing the pinked skin where they were bound and gently guiding her arms down to her sides, making her whimper as she’s suddenly aware of how sore her muscles are from being in one position for so long. 

Bellamy unties her ankles too, kissing the skin softly and then he disappears to the bathroom for a minute, returning with warm water and a washcloth. He cleans her legs and stomach then wipes himself down. 

“Can you turn over?” With a little help from him, she flips to her side so Bellamy can lie behind her and massage her shoulders. She whines, the pressure of his strong hands painfully good. “You okay?”

She smiles, though he can’t see it. “I’m amazing.”

“Yea, you are.” He kisses the back of her neck. “Fuck, Clarke, that was…that was just…”

“Yea, it was,” she breathes and then scoots back so he can wrap his arms around her and sling his leg over her hips. “When do I get to tie you up?”

Bellamy chuckles, “You’ve got to learn to tie knots, first.”

“Will you teach me?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys liked this, please leave me a comment and maybe I'll do a second part......
> 
> Seriously, though, comments mean everything!
> 
> Read Part 2 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10669053


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